


The Funny Thing About Hatred

by Minnienia



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Arguing, Cigarettes, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Idol AU, I’m not saying Hyunjinnie smokes ! This is fiction !, Jisung is pretty mean in this :’), Kissing, M/M, Minor Violence, Smoking, sorry pls enjoy !
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:14:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29079180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minnienia/pseuds/Minnienia
Summary: The inevitable rise of hatred and the unexpected coping mechanisms that assist the fall.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56





	The Funny Thing About Hatred

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t be shy ! Talk to me :’) .  
> Twitter: minnienia1  
> Curious Cat: minnienia1  
> Instagram: hwalltogether_

“Jisung you’re behind and you don’t even know all of the choreography. If this is becoming too much for you let me know and we’ll figure out a new formation.” Hyunjin doesn’t even turn to face him when he releases the venom from his lips. His shoulders heave lightly in his reflection of the practice mirror. He hadn’t been that far behind honestly. A few missed steps here and there and a slight struggle with finding the beat every now and then, but not enough for him to propose a formation change. Jisung doesn’t respond, just let’s the heat settle in his veins and frees his brow line of its fountain of sweat. The music begins again moments later and Hyunjin grumbles a quick countdown and the stomping of feet begin simultaneously. The satisfying noises of practiced synchronization fill the corners of the practice room for a few moments that end all too soon. Jisung lifts his foot not even a full second later than the rest of his members, it’s echo accompanying the others like a stubborn lisp. Hyunjin doesn’t miss it though.

“Han Jisung it’s 1, 2, _ & 3, _not 1,2,3,4,5-” His feet are heavy as he makes a mockery of him in front of the others and Jisung feels his pot begin to simmer as his eyes zero in on Hyunjin’s through the reflection of the mirror. Watches the way he cocks an eyebrow up into the dampness of his head band.

An invitation. 

Jisung can feel his lid rattle with the effort to keep it’s contents inside when Hyunjin let’s out a scoff at his silence. 

A challenge. 

“Fine, Chan I think it’d be best to switch his position with Jeongin.” Jisung can feel the resistance radiating from his leader in suffocating waves as a last effort to allow the dispute to diffuse itself and almost thinks that maybe he could resist a little longer as well. Just switch spots with Jeongin and take the one-on-one tutored steps he knows he’ll get from Minho and just _let it go._ Almost.

“I think my nonexistent missteps should be the least of your worries.” The words slip past searing hot lips like sips from a water bottle that sat in the freezer for too long. But the sting doesn’t bother him, he likes the way it makes Hyunjin’s features pull taut, watches him struggle with his tongue before responding.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” He’s finally turned to face him, the fabric of his t-shirt completely drenched in sweat and Jisung gags inwardly when he watches a single drop seep down the expanse of his flushed cheek. He can sense movement from the corner of his eye, and knows Chan has lost all hope of the two just _letting this go._ No it doesn’t work like that between them. Not anymore. Jisung can remember a distant past where a younger version of himself could let the older’s brazen forms of criticism slip off of slender shoulders without a hitch. But his shoulders are wider now, taking up much more space and leaving little room for anything that rubs him the wrong way. Which happens to be Hyunjin exclusively. Not one particular thing that he does no, but his existence as an entirety.

“I mean with a position as uncertain as your own you’d think you’d worry about all the things you can fix, before looking at anyone else.” Jisung feels the rearranging of muscles under his shirt as he crosses his arms over his chest, an act of defense as Hyunjin strides forward on long legs that make Jisung’s blood boil. But Minho is quick, placing a hand against Hyunjin’s abdomen. Their eyes meet briefly, lacking everything but intensity. Hyunjin’s glare is strong and unwavering but Minho is tired and ready to go home to remove the layers of his day from his body so he doesn’t back down, breaking eye contact only when Jisung let’s out a laugh from behind him. Hyunjin and him both sending glances over his shoulder.

“You’re constant eye on me would be flattering if it weren’t for the fact that you take absolutely nothing from it-”

“You have _nothing_ that I could benefit from.” His words are harsh and steady as he stares straight into Jisung’s eyes. His ability to keep eye contact has always been something Jisung envied, but now, after the words that left his mouth, that feeling of unshakeable shame bubbles and mutates into blinding rage that yells at Jisung to go low. So he does.

“No? Not even the fact that I actually deserve my position?” The space between Hyunjin’s brow twitches so slightly that Jisung almost misses it, his eyes trained to look there and only there when they find themselves in this familiar argument of who can hurt the other more. But he doesn’t miss it and when he realizes that he’s done it, found that place that Hyunjin hates, he oozes with a spite filled confidence as he shreds some of the distance between them. He’s about two steps away from where Minho bears the weight of Hyunjin’s frame when he feels the arms encase his own waist, the added weight making him come to a stop. He can see Jeongin bury his face in the crock of Seungmin’s neck, watch Felix tear at the already bruised areas around the corners of his nail bed as his eyes flick between the scene taking place before him in the practice mirror. Changbin is begging for Jisung to “just stop” and “come with him”, but Jisung ignores it, shakes the hands of his worried leader from his face when he tries to get Jisung to find a leveled ground. He needs Hyunjin to break and only then will he be willing to let it go.

“Face it you’re only here because of your face, which by the way is mediocre at best. You have not even an ounce of actual talent in any part of your obnoxiously unproportionate body. You’re worried because I missed a step or two? That’s a simple fix. But what about you? Your lines keep getting cut shorter and shorter, because you can carry a tune about as well as you can keep a beat on a verse. That is not at all by the way.” 

Minho isn’t quick enough this time, his limbs sore and lagging when Hyunjin thrashes against him. He’s charging towards Jisung a moment later and neither Chan nor Changbin stand a chance when Hyunjin swings a fist that connects with Jisung’s lower jaw. It throbs immensely as the blood flows to the abused area and Jisung sees white. He kicks and wails against Changbin’s hold, his mind just not finding a way to wrap around the fact that Hyunjin would stoop to taking such a low shot. Not even waiting for Jisung to be in a position to actually defend himself. Chan’s screaming for Jisung to stop while he holds an equally erratic Hyunjin with the help of a sobbing Felix. His checks are a blazing red as he hiccups on a particularly rough sob. Minho left cradling his right eye after a strong push from Hyunjin sent his elbow flying straight into it. It makes Jisung want to laugh so he does. It comes out dark and ugly and seems to only spur Hyunjin on more. They go on like that for a few more minutes, Jisung spitting out silly insults to watch Hyunjin vibrate with rage in Chan’s hold before he breaks free again and Jisung is ready to shed with the weight of Changbin with all his might, but Hyunjin just walks right past him. He slams the door to the room so hard it makes the doorframe shake with the force. 

The room is silent, still even, save for a few sniffles from Jeongin where he sits squashed into Seungmin’s side on the couch, the older’s expression vacant as he stares blankly at the scuffed hardwood floors. Felix has gained controls over his sobs, tears now streaming silently down his face as he bites on the sleeves of his sweater. Changbin hasn’t left his previous position, his forehead now placed in the area between Jisung’s shoulder blades, his breaths coming out in hard strained puffs just like Jisung’s. He put up as much of a fight to keep the boy in place as Jisung did to get away from him. And that does it for him, makes him lose all hardness in his limbs and slink back into Changbin’s hold who in return just tightens his grip on Jisung’ waist. He’s exhausted and so is Chan where he sits on the floor. He runs a hand over his face and when he looks up to meet Jisung's eyes he looks _drained_ _and utterly hopeless._

“It’s not just about you two you know? There’s other people here, people with emotions that believe it or not are affected by the people they spend every waking second with. It’s not just fucking about you.” Minho is speaking with a well deserved anger when he leaves the room, the members of the younger line following in close pursuit. Jisung knows that, wishes that his shoulders would shrink in size and allow him to be logical Jisung again. Would revert back to the same ones that didn’t feel the need to bare themselves at the mere sight of Hwang Hyunjin. Not this one that makes Changbin’s shoulder’s shake with the efforts it takes to hold in his own sobs.

He sleeps in Changbin’s bed that night and lets him smother him with all of his newly acquired muscle mass, somehow finding a way to stay soft in all of Jisung’s favorite places. He hears when the door to their dorm opens around three a.m. and ignores the way Hyunjin says his name with such raw pain when he apologizes to Minho on their living room couch. Closes his eyes and tries to force himself to sleep when he listens to Minho soothe Hyunjin’s cries. Jisung can feel the faint pull of a part of him that wishes to feel bad for the way he provoked Hyunjin today, but he won’t allow it. Pulls the blanket up to his neck and squeezes his eyes shut so tightly he sees stars and counts them until thirty when he finally falls asleep. 

  
  


They keep their distance from one another as well as two people that live and work together possibly can. Not without a little help from the others though. Chan doesn’t think Jisung notices how he wakes Hyunjin and himself up in intervals. That way one is shoveling down spoonfuls of Frosted Flakes while the other works in a quick morning shower. Or how if Jisung is the first one to enter their bus Hyunjin has to be the last or vice versa. The makeup artist didn’t ask too much about the splashes of yellowing bruises that have blossomed across some of the members skin, just tells them they need to learn how to not be so rough when roughhousing. The quick and witty rebuttals that Changbin gives an interviewer when he plops himself in between Hyunjin and Jisung despite the seating chart written in the cue cards have become routine. Their interviews always run smoothly though, both boy’s laughing artificially at one another's jokes and giving rehearsed answers generated by Seungmin to questions about the other. But nights in their dorms are for the two to stay conscious of, having to know when the other is going to eat at the table or on their living room couch. Limiting their showers to exactly fifteen minutes after that one time Hyunjin flipped Jisung’s side of his and Jeongin’s room upside down because he was taking too long. 

Practice is inevitable though so they stick to the sides of certain members and allow the focus of their vision to fall nowhere within a three foot radius of the other. And Jisung would like to say it works. Albeit a rather non productive method that sort of just teaches the two how to perfect their art of completely ignoring the other. But no one complains since it keeps the practices flowing steadily. Jisung decided to switch places with Jeongin in hopes of not having to watch the panic that flashes across Chan’s face everytime he hears a hiccup in the choreography. Minho does as expected and slows down parts that are two fast for Jisung’s feet until they flow along with the rest like second nature. It works for a while and Jisung really thinks this could be it.

“Do you really think things can stay like this?” 

Yes he did. It’s Changbin that pulls the rug from beneath his faulty foundation, and the bricks crumble around them immediately after. They’re walking back to their dorms one afternoon after practice finished early. Heavy plastic bags with cute little yellow emoticons plastered on their front and back side hang from their forearms. Filled with everyones favorite snacks. There is a convenience store about a block away from their home, but it doesn’t carry the gummies that Seungmin has been attached to recently, so they offer to make the walk to the one that’s a bus stop and a half away. They lick rapidly at melting ice pops, Changbin’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he struggles to keep up with the dripping and keep two feet in front of him.

“I mean why not? Don’t fix something if it’s not broken right.” The sun is warm and affectionate this afternoon, slithering around their biceps and placing butterfly kisses to the napes of their necks. But the wind balances out her advances for them, with cool breezes here and there.

“No. It was literally never not broken, like you should be interested in fixing it just to see what it looks like at this point.” 

“We don’t have to be friends to work together, not everyone is going to like one another.” The sun bakes the ends of Jisung’s shirt and makes the wet cloth cling to his abdomen as if the fabric is too small. 

“Yeah no I get that, but you guys aren’t even like frenemies, you’re both just mean. Like what you said the other day was pretty shitty. What makes you not like him so much?” Jisung takes a quick glance at his friend, still licking frantically at his half melted banana pop. 

“What makes everyone else _like_ him so much? I mean other than the fact that he’s got a pretty face?” Jisung stands behind his statement wholeheartedly. Doesn’t see any aspect of the boy that could make any logical person take a genuine interest in him and it’s annoying that everyone does anyways. It sets a fire to every nerve in his body when he watches the way people gawk at him when he’s doing the simplest of tasks. 

Screwing in a light bulb, “Your arms are so long Hyunjin.”

Holding open a door, “Oh what a gentleman you are Hyunjin.”

Sitting in a chair, “Look at how long your legs are Hyunjin.”

“He’s a great dancer actually and I know you say his rapping and vocal skills could be better, but keep in mind he’s coming into this fresh and I think he’s doing pretty well.” They’re about a street away from their dorm and Changbin is just licking at the remnants left on his popsicle stick. Jisung is sure he doesn’t expect him to respond, because Changbin is big on not letting either of them speak harshly about the other around him. But Jisung just doesn’t agree and knows there isn’t a nice way for him to say that so he doesn’t say anything. Just reaches into his back pocket for the packet of wet wipes the nice lady at the counter gave him and begins to wipe away at Changbin’s sticky fingers. 

When they make it to their home Jisung leaves his bag on the kitchen table and heads straight for his bed. He pulls the curtains closed shut on his bunk and plugs his earphones into his laptop. He pulls up the file that contains each rap verse for their upcoming release and plays Hyunjin’s a few times to see if he can hear the improvement that everyone else does. But he can't. No matter how many times he listens to it. Finding issues in his pronunciation, his ability to keep time, and just his tone in general. It’s all off to Jisung so he shuts his laptop and stops searching and lays in the comforts of his bed until he hears a faint knock at his room door. He doesn’t feel like opening his curtains, but the person on the other side doesn’t even give him a chance to do so, speaking immediately. 

“Dinner is here.” Jisung pushes his head through the curtains just in time to catch a peak of Hyunjin’s blonde ponytail before he leaves the room. He really just doesn’t get what it is that everyone else sees. 

  
  


“Are you sure you don’t want me and Jisung to trade?” It’s Chan that asks the question. Their rap coach stood leaned against the glass door of one of the recording rooms. 

“Positive.” His smile is vacant of any real signs of enjoyment when he answers, head twisting to the side like a little puppy which Jisung would have found cute at any other time.

“But I think I’d do better with Changbin honestly.” Jisung’s voice is strained when he speaks up, just needing to get out of being locked in that room with Hyunjin.

“Why? You both have already recorded and finalized your verses, what would you gain from working with one another?” He kicks himself up from their door and rubs his palms against his thighs before reaching for the handle. Jisung knows that finding ways to keep the two a part would run out at some point and that it’s extremely stressful for the people that do so, but it has to be done. So things can continue to work, so they can continue to find comfort in this new thing where they pretend as if the other had actually been eliminated. And Jisung expects Hyunjin to be on his side finally for once, but he raises Jisung’s eyebrows when he lifts from his seat and walks straight into the recording booth. 

“Now that’s the spirit! Jisung you next.” There’s that spark that was missing before coming to life behind their instructors eyes. And Jisung’s need to not let Hyunjin one up him is what gets him up and into the room. Chan tries to bargain with the man a little longer before he shoos him off down the hall to the room identical to theirs. He turns back to the two and leans a shoulder against the door frame.

“No bullshit, Hyunjin rap your verse and incorporate Jisung’s suggestions. Jisung you provide constructive criticism in a non hostile manner.” His words are emphasized with the finger he uses to jab in each boy’s direction when he spits out what it is that he expects. He sends one last equally annoyed glare to the both of them before he tells them to come and find him if they need help. And with that they’re left alone. Hyunjin’s in a long sleeve shirt that swallows his hands whole. Why can’t he just purchase clothes that are made to fit him. He doesn’t utter a single word to Jisung as he places the earphones over his head and gets himself situated behind the microphone. So Jisung doesn’t say anything either, just pulls up the audio file on the desktop and holds his fingers up high as he signals a countoff. Hyunjin’s voice comes through the speakers immediately in this shrill that makes the hairs on the back of Jisung’s neck stand up in irritation. He gets about three lines in before Jisung can’t take it anymore and he stops the music. Hyunjin’s headphones come off almost immediately and he tries to keep his expression neutral as he stares at the other male through the glass window. 

“You lost your beat a while ago, and you’re slurring your words together so much it’s hard to find where they end and begin.” He just gets a nod and a thumbs up in return and Jisung is quick to get the music flowing through his headphones again. He spits out the rhymes with more enthusiasm but from Jisung’s position he hears no actual corrections. So he stops the music again and misses the way Hyunjin’s knuckles turn white when he slides the headphones down to his neck. He gives the same monotone advice through the overcome and starts the music once more. The third time he stops the music it’s only partially because of his need to break Hyunjin’s ego, but he isn’t given the time of day. Hyunjin sits the headphones across the music stand, exits the studio and walks right out of the room. Jisung chuckles to himself, thinking about the utter hypocrisy that Hyunjin lives by. Seeing no problem with sharing his opinion where he sees fit, but not being able to handle someone else’s. Jisung sees it as one more thing for him to add to the list of things Hyunjin should work on. 

It isn’t long before the room fills again. Changbin sitting on the arm of Jisung’s computer chair with a stern hand massaging the back of Jisung’s neck. Chan stands leaned against the wall behind Hyunjin, his eyes tracking the younger's every move.

“I asked for just thirty minutes of your time and you couldn’t even do that.” Their instructor rubs at his temples as he pulls up the audio for the track. He motions Hyunjin back into the booth and shouts out a speedy countdown and Hyunjin floods the room once again. Jisung sits still in all of his disdain as the other occupants of the room listen closely. He’s actually given the opportunity to finish his entire verse this time and once he’s done the instructor calls him out back into the main room. His delivery is quick. 

“Yes Hyunjin you do need to work on enunciating your words.”

“Told you.”

“And Jisung no one wants to hear from a know it all.” When he leaves them that day with Hyunjin’s verse still incomplete he switches the role of mentor ship from Jisung to Changbin. 

“What? Did you think I was lying? Yes I may be a hard ass, but a truthful one. What I say to you isn’t just for my enjoyment. I still have to work next to you and if I’m going to do so you have to be at least halfway decent.” Jisung shrugs Changbin’s steadily tightening grasp away from his neck. 

“And what about you?” Hyunjin sounds completely unbothered, amused even. 

“What about me?”

“I mean you said it best. You’re worried about my pronunciation. That’s an easy fix, but your face. How far are you willing to go to be considered even slightly attractive next to everyone else?” He gives Jisung a lazy lopsided smirk that tells Jisung to read it and weep. 

“Fuck You Hwang Hyunjin.”

“Don’t worry that’s a predicament you’ll never find yourself in.”

Jisung decides to skip out on dinner that night. Only slightly embarrassed by Hyunjin’s reading of him in front of the others. Jisung isn’t necessarily insecure but acknowledges his surroundings to a certain degree. Knows his cheekbones aren’t as sharp as Minho’s, his stature not as broad as Chan’s, and his lips are not quite touching the plumpness of Hyunjin’s. But he doesn’t think he’s unattractive and never previously thought he had to worry about his “rank” when it came to his members. But when the rest of them get dressed up to head out for dinner, Hyunjin’s words slither out from his mouth and bound his ankles when they ask him to join. He can hear the movements of another individual in the room next to him. He had assumed that everyone left earlier so curiosity lures him from his bed. He wanders down the hallway and follows the calls of the wind that whisper through the crack left in their sliding balcony door. He’s sat on the concrete floor in that same ridiculously large t-shirt, his ears stuffed into his beanie, pulled way down too far over his head. The blond of his ends curling up whimsically around the area that holds them down. A stream of grey ash floats in a makeshift halo around his skull. 

  
  


“That’s not going to help you do any better.” He jumps slightly at the sound of Jisung's voice, also having expected to be alone after the other members sudden group outing. 

“Yeah like you actually care.” He doesn’t look at Jisung for long, just repositions himself where his back leans against the glass door and flicks ashes into the plastic cup that sits next to his thigh. Jisung squints the sleep out of his eyes and takes a peak up at the stars, he decides they’ll look prettier from where Hyunjin’s sitting so he takes the spot next to him. He slots his legs through the rusted bars of their banister and is in the middle of knocking the pebbles that have lodged themselves into the palms of his hands when he feels Hyunjin’s eyes on him. He stops mid shake and raises his eyebrows at the older boy.

A question.

“I’m not really in the mood to fight. I won’t say anything to you and you don’t have to say anything to me.” He takes another long drag from the cigarette between his lips and angels his head away from Jisung when he releases the smoke. The moonlight catches the corners of his eyes and forgets some of it’s glow there which Hyunjin accepts gracefully. 

“I’m not here to fight.” Jisung leans back on the palms of his hands and lets them get reacquainted with the same dust particles he just shed. It’s quiet for a while after that. Just the sounds of Hyunjin’s small intakes of breath and the traffic flowing down below.

“Why do you smoke?” Jisung has never done well with quiteness. 

“You said you weren’t here to fight.”

“And I’m not, I-I’m genuinely curious.” Hyunjin stubs the cigarette butt out at that point checking the end to make sure the flame is completely gone before dumping it into the cup.

“It’s a stress reliever kind of thing. I know everyone says it and you’re like no way until you actually start doing it and realize it’s kind of addictive.” Jisung can feel Hyunjin’s eyes bore into the side of his face as he speaks. Always keeping eye contact even if his counterpart isn't. Jisung is counting the number of rooms with lights on compared to the ones with lights off on the building across from theirs for the second time since he sat down. 

“Can you stop if you wanted to?” Hyunjin purses his lips and swooshes them around like he’s playing tag with the possible responses his tongue holds. He chuckles lightly when he chooses one.

“I mean I guess I could, but I don’t really want to.” And Jisung makes the mistake of looking over at him. Because despite not being able to see Hyunjin’s technical talent, he always knew that he was pretty. His eyes sitting in one of the most perfect slants he’s ever seen in his life and thick lips that sit in this pout regardless of what it is that he’s doing. Right now Jisung watches the stars float in the dip of his cupid's bow and Hyunjin just blinks slowly at him in return. Jisung can only think of himself in comparison to the male before him and it makes him want to curl in on himself. Hide every aspect of his entire being from Hyunjin’s watchful eye. Run to the confines of his bed and screw the ends of his curtains into his walls until they promise him that he doesn’t have to stand next to someone so physically perfect again.

“Do you really think I’m pretty?” That makes Jisung’s Japanese speed train of thoughts come to a screeching halt. Hyunjin’s eyes are still on him, still as deep as ever as they find some way to shine even under the dim lighting of the night sky. 

“I said you’re pretty, but that you have nothing else to offer and that’s what you pick up on?” And there go his eyes, creating little tiny crescent moons when he hides a smile behind one of his fists, still being swaddled in the ends of his sleeve. It makes Jisung break out a smile of his own as he eases his legs from where they have fallen asleep between the bars and brings them up to his chest. He rests his chin atop of them and takes an attendance count of the light windows one more time. They’re down to two. Five less than the last time he counted.

“It’s not the only thing I picked up on. It’s just really the only thing you’ve said that can technically not be considered just an insult.” Hyunjin refuses to look away from him, his face till smudged with the residue of a smile, when he says, “I say a lot of shit, but I think you’re pretty too.” and Jisung feels it in his chest, the way his body explodes with a feeling it hasn’t felt in so long that it’s turned into something foreign. 

“Fuck I love this song.” Hyunjin is reaching for his phone and messing with the volume buttons before Jisung can respond. The beat is chill and carries a nostalgic value, the faint outline of a memory taking shape, one that Jisung isn’t really sure he’s had begins to engulfs the two. The vocals of the singer meshing well with the light strums of acoustic instruments and the steady flow of the drums. The message is very simple and clear as Hyunjin hums along. 

His head bops from side to side as he harmonizes with the audio and Jisung doesn’t think when he lets himself admit that the progression of his members' vocal abilities are evident to any person that is willing to hear it. But that’s not what he mentions when he opens his mouth and he’s sure when the words leave his lips it’s the fact that all of the light’s in the building have been turned off for the better half of the end of this conversation and he should’ve gone to bed along with them. But something urged him to keep his position next to the older.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” And before he can beat himself up over it, Hyunjin let’s out this laugh so light and airy that it tickles at Jisung’s chest and leaves him wondering why on earth he hadn’t tried to hear that more often before. 

“Yes Jisung I have, have you?” Yes, Jisung has kissed a few people actually. There's that one girl from his tenth grade class that he used to go to the computer cafe with after school. She pulled him into an alleyway on their way home one day and smashed her lips against his for a quick exchange of saliva that left Jisung’s entire mouth and the areas around it wet. His heart was ready to leap from his chest for the rest of the walk. There was also that boy from that one get together Minho snuck Jisung off too, who taught Jisung how much tongue was too much tongue and what spaces on his body made him tremble with pleasure. Then there’s Minho. When weeks get exceptionally hard and the soju isn’t doing it anymore, they lay in Minho’s bed where they exchange lazy kisses spread out over one another's alcohol flushed skin. But sitting here, looking at Hyunjin Jisung doesn’t doubt that he’d trade every one of those kisses for just a single peck from him.

“If you haven’t that’s fine. You know, like no judgement or whatever.” There’s a laugh that sits high in the back of his throat when he whispers those words, his thumb and lower finger pulling at his bottom lip. Jisung really blames it on the fact that he’s not in bed right now. He catches Hyunjin off guard when he locks eyes with him since their first introduction in JYPs cafeteria. 

“Would you kiss me?” His reaction gives Hyunjin’s laugh enough momentum to unlodge itself from his throat, but it comes out a bit strangled.

“Would you let me?”

“Yes.” And so he does. Hyunjin leans in and let’s Jisung meet him halfway. 

And it settles in the pit of his stomach that night, the same way Hyunjin’s lips settle between his own. His stomach turns for different reasons and he touches him with such delicacy that he didn’t know was capable for the two. But he prefers it like this, doesn’t want it to work any differently, doesn’t know how he could've possibly preferred it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I made Jisung a lot meaner than intended lol, but I liked it so I kept it. Also I wrote this at 12 am so please excuse typos and overused themes or phrases :’p .


End file.
